


A Collection of Body Parts

by Anonymous



Series: A Web Is Made Thread by Thread [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Creepy Fluff, Fluff and Smut, How on earth did I make Ra's somehow domestic?, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Riding, Still a pervert though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For Tim, he truly wants this to be hatesex, just a pattern that keeps repeating against his will...but unfortunately the dislike is too one-sided. Afterall Ra’s adores too many parts of him for it to be anything otherwise.





	A Collection of Body Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Consensual snippets after 'Caught.' Of Tim slowly thawing and being horrified of this progress very very much. Also I've inserted as much creepy fluff as possible. Enjoy. :D

_-Tongue-_

Tim hates Ra’s tongue the most. He hates the way it traces the peaks of his nipples, flicking them, savoring them until they’re red and raw. How it worms into his mouth to explore and dominate every crevice until Tim can’t breathe or even want to. He hates how it feels _inside_ of him. Ra’s gets too smug afterwards because all Tim can do is twitch, shiver with unfocused eyes as he lies ruined on the silken sheets.

He can't do anything as Ra's cups his face and coos _the most vile, awful things_ while mouthing up and down his jaw like, “They do not deserve you, Timothy.”

And Tim want to snarl and sass but it's useless. His voice is gone. His throat tired from screaming whenever Demon Head indulges in his new favorite addiction over...and over again.

_His Timothy tastes so divine._

Tim hates that tongue.

 

_-Fingernails-_

There’s a dull red under Tim’s fingernails. It’s his only consolation prize as he stares at the tan back walking away from the bed _(Our bed Beloved)._ Ra’s does nothing to cover up the grooves, the lines that prove passion and shunned pleasure. As Ra’s returns placing a tray of fruit between them, Tim glares at him harder.

If only those marks would scar.

 

_-Thighs-_

Ra is quite fond of the span of inner flesh before the prize between Beloved’s legs. It’s so easy to mark, to worship in bruises and bites. The milky white turns purple with his fingerprints while the blue veins there beg to be teased with teeth. If it is Beloved’s place to be on his back, those small hands twisting in the sheets as control is ripped from him _beautifully_ , then it is Ra’s place to stay on his stomach keeping those thighs nice and open until the boy is driven completely mad.

Timothy chokes above him as the Demon plays. His hips struggling, fighting as Ra’s pins them to the bed without remorse. _“I’m not done yet, Beloved.”_ He shall continue sucking marks closer and closer to that heavy swollen need until the vigilante begs...it will not be long now.

 _“Ra’s p-please!”_ It’s soft, barely a whisper yet it sets Ra’s blood on fire. _There_.

“Shhhhhh, my dear Timothy. I will give you _everything_ in due time. I always do. Now ease into my hands, there’s no need for your muscles to strain. Feel for me and I will fulfill your wants.”

The tendons in Timothy’s thighs relax minutely. A shuddering breath as the boy’s hips stop enough so Ra’s can purr and rub those hipbones enticingly, rewarding the behavior.

“–R-Ra’s?”

_“I know my Love...I know.”_

The pit is not the only way to break a man.

 

_-Hair-_

Timothy’s hair is the perfect length. It almost brushes his shoulders and Ra’s enjoys sinking his fingers into it. He loves running his hands through it, winding it around at the base of Beloved’s neck to firmly direct that head to exactly where it belongs. Whether it be a better angle for a punishing kiss, a good tug to make Timothy’s mouth fall open so the Demon can swallow every wail or simply just to push the boy down to take more of...Well Ra’s thinks it’s only fair.

After all at the rate Beloved pulls, tugs, rips at his hair, Ra’s may be going bald.

 _“It serves you right.”_ Tim hisses yanking Ra’s back a millimeter, his grip tight and almost unfairly painful.

Yet Ra’s finds the reward far worth the sacrifice.

 

- _Wrists_ -

His hands will be only manacles to adorn Timothy's wrists. The delicate bones fit so perfectly between his thumb and forefinger. True, there are occasions when the boy tenses and must be distracted from a well-timed thrust from strong hips. Only then the body goes lax as Ra’s ministrations render him helpless. Ra's can even let go for mere moments just to trail his nails down that forearm. It earns him the best of reluctant reactions. “Why Detective, you're still so wonderfully sensitive.” Or he’ll reach up to lacing their fingers together, pressing them harder into the mattress. Anything to drive the point further into the Detective’s brain that he is to stay there.

Beneath him.

Yet he supposes there are other ways to persuade the detective he thinks while stroking the pulse under that pale skin, Timothy too exhausted to protest or do anything but allow it. He raises an arm to kiss at a wrist lingeringly, possessively.

Ra's cannot wait to implement every one.

 

- _Ankles_ -

They are right in the middle of catching their breath when Timothy pulls away from him. With a displeased brow, Ra's watches him scoot to the edge of the bed to reach for his clothing. It is a gamble but the Demon stretches to grasp the vigilante’s ankle. The man freezes and why must those eyes regain their ice so quickly? At Timothy’s frigid stare, Ra’s strokes over the notched bone in the ankle keeping his grip nice and loose.

“There is no need to rush. I would never chase you out of my keep Timothy,” He mutters.

“Said the _spider_ to the fly.”

Ignoring the retort, Ra’s tries again. “Neither is there any reason to vanish like smoke from my side. Stay the night Beloved, you are on the brink of passing out.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Absolutely mine, all the more for me to make amends, please Timothy you are safe in this bed.”

The Detective snorts, “You have a funny way of defining safe.” Still Ra's is beyond pleased when he can tug that ankle closer without a token resistance. Timothy releases the bodysuit, letting it slip back to the floor. Ra’s aches at the scene Timothy makes. It’s quite breathtaking, all that skin bare with the evidence of their lovemaking painting that lithe body red and purple. He opens his arms to cage the younger man, cradle him from behind as they lay side by side. Unable to help themselves, his fingers roam here and there as the boy settles.

Timothy presses on one arm wrapping across his stomach, misunderstanding the Demon’s intentions. “Ra's. I can't...go another round tonight.”

“Oh, if only. My hunger for you is never sated. Your flesh beckons to me and your cries have addicted me completely.” He greedily counts Tim’s ribs while intertwining their legs and ankles together.

 _“Pervert.”_ The word ends in a squeak when Ra’s cups him in a light tease. Timothy slaps way the touch and it is fortunate the detective cannot see his pout. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave.”

The threat is tired however, the bite ineffective.

“Please, not that. Tonight let me have the pleasure of having company while we dream, Beloved.” It’s is a comfort that Ra’s craves.

“Just tonight. I’m gone in the morning.”

“Of course, Timothy.” Ra’s agrees goodnaturedly. It is said that it takes twenty-one days for a habit to form...but surely addictions infect more rapidly. _Ra’s is counting on it._ Patience he has plenty, yet the observing a quicker development would be pleasant.

The sheets are warm and Ra's watches under half-lidded eyes as the Detective finally, finally starts to drift.

“Go to bed, Ra’s” His dear lover orders with a grumbles.

“Goodnight...Beloved.”

 

- _Back_ -

“You're such a hypocrite, make up your damn mind!” Tim wheezes angrily.

Ra's shifts behind him, running his hands over Tim's stomach to push him further into his lap. Plastered to his back, Ra's hooks his head over Beloved's shoulder and stares. “But Detective, I am torn. I truly believe _both_ views are beyond lovely.”

Looking down, he eyes the heaving chest, the way Beloved’s thighs stretch so obscenely over his, that pretty cock swaying as the Demon encourages the Detective to move. Allows the smaller man to control the pace, find his own pleasure as he grinds and writhes. Ra's slides a hand up to frame Timothy's neck carefully, encouraging the posture that will make the angle sweeter for the boy. In return, he hears a delicious sob in his ears. Oh, how will they ever leave this bed when his lover sounds like this?

“How could I possibly decide on a favorite position when you're mesmerizing in each one?”

“I-I hate you...hate you so– _ah_ –much.” Timothy pushes out between frustrated, cracked moans.

A thought comes to him and Ra's straightens with delight. “Oh, I have an idea that will work in our favor my precious. Guards, fetch us a mirror!” He releases a hip to snap and the shadows move at the command.

 _“Don't you fucking dare!”_ But Ra's has found his spot and abuses it mercilessly, holding Tim’s hips down and still so Ra's can grind up against it.

His keen is so high and Ra's smiles in absolute hunger, “You will understand when you see what I see, Beloved.”

Until the detective understands his perspective Ra’s won't let up, won't stop torturing him, won't stop finding positions to make his lover sing.

Ra's is sure Timothy will always give him a reason to be... _creative_.  

 

_-Ears-_

It is a few hours before dawn when the Detective shows up. It is completely unannounced, abrupt, and everything the Demon has desired. Once reported, Ra’s waves all ninjas away with a single command. Let nothing be between the Demon and the Detective. The halls were emptied.  No door locked, no bodyguard or obstacle to hinder his beloved...from walking so tiredly deeper and deeper into the keep. The candlelights flicker low and dimmed when Ra’s hears a muffled thump at his door. Ra’s feels his mouth water, an expression of pure victory crawl and spread over his face. He’ll have to push it down however. Such things are taken as a sign of mockery for Timothy and to have any progress slip due to his own actions would be beyond unforgivable. Especially after such careful fostering, nurturing that Timothy is welcome here, in the dark, to fit so well in the Demon’s arms.

He draws the door open and feels a head fall forward to bump against his chest. As if it just simply slid from the doorframe, gravity taking hold of the vigilante like the action was an accident.

It was no accident.

“Don’t say anything.”

Ra’s smile escapes him, but luckily that head of raven hair doesn’t rise to see it. “Do not ask for the impossible, Beloved.”

A groan, the body slumps a bit and Ra’s gingerly takes the man’s shoulders. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” Ra’s takes it as a cue to pull him step by step into his private quarters, pushing off the cowl and one by one pieces of armor litter the floor.

“Neither would I, Timothy. Yet perhaps now is not the time for enlightenment. It is late and you are weary. Come to bed.”  He runs his hands up Beloved’s back to massage the base of his skull. The sides of his fingers brush behind Tim’s ears. Aching, excruciating slow the man, the Detective raises his arms to coil around Ra’s neck. His chest touches his, Ra’s taking more and more of vigilante's weight as his lover drops into the embrace and rests.

Tim huffs in Ra’s ear and he doesn’t quite repress a shiver. It is wonderful. It is perfect.

_“...Fine.”_

 

_-Lips-_

Tim is going to punch Ra’s if he doesn’t stop it.

_“Stop that.”_

“I don’t know what you are referring to.” Ra’s lips twist knowingly and Tim is _this close_ to reaching over the table to...to do something, anything to get that expression off that disgusting face.

Because mornings have turned into breakfast. _Then breakfast with chess._ Then breakfast, chess and–

“Detective I may have some intel that may be of some interest to you. If you would like, I would love to divulge it to you in the den. It may take some...time however.”

“I know what you’re doing.” He grits out.

Ra’s lips spread wider, showing his teeth. “Is that so?”

“Stop it.” Beloved’s eyes are narrowed, his grimace strong as Ra’s just places another cup of tea in front of him.

“No.” Ra’s reaches, slowly tilts that unhappy mouth up with a finger under his chin. “I do not think I ever will.”

And Tim could move at anytime. He doesn’t have to stay still as Ra’s leans down until their lips touch and sink into each other. He doesn’t have to open his mouth wider when Ra’s licks the seam between them, coaxing more space for him to taste the chai. His eyes don’t have to flutter closed when Ra’s alternates with tastings of tongue to soft pecks to get every lingering drop of spice.

Tim doesn’t have to do anything.

But he knows, Ra’s knows, _they know_ that the assassin's seduction is working. In fact...it might be already too late.

Fuck.

Fuck.

_Fuck._


End file.
